


So I Did Something...

by mssrj_335



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: First Kiss, Jealous Finn (Star Wars), M/M, Oblivious Finn (Star Wars), POV Poe Dameron, Pining Poe Dameron, Post TROS, Previously anyway, Talking around the issue, Trope bait
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:48:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23488603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mssrj_335/pseuds/mssrj_335
Summary: Parked at a table and more than three hours into this so-called party, Poe's ready to tear his hair out. And considering the not-so-secret pride he has in his hair, that’s saying something. Finn had been pulled from his side hours ago and Poe’s about to lose his mind without him. He’d been expecting some drinks, some covert laughs with his co-general at the expense of all these ostentatious bastards. He’d been wanting to spend time with Finn.Just Finn.So, of course, that isn’t what happens at all.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Finn
Comments: 20
Kudos: 195





	So I Did Something...

As far as diplomatic social functions went, this one wasn’t going great. At least, that was Poe’s thought when they first arrived. Whoever put this thing together apparently only invited people that could profit off the Resistance winning and, almost as an afterthought, also decided to invite some actual Resistance. You know, for the show of it. It was the kind of event Poe would happily shirk or shove off onto someone else if 1) most of their benefactors weren’t in attendance and 2) they could actually use a little more benefaction to finish what they started. So, naturally, he asked Finn to go and here they are.

Now though, parked at a table and more than three _hours_ into this so-called party, he’s ready to tear his hair out. And considering the not-so-secret pride he has in his hair, that’s saying something. Finn had been pulled from his side hours ago and Poe’s about to lose his mind without him. He’d been expecting some drinks, some covert laughs with his co-general at the expense of all these ostentatious bastards. He’d been wanting to spend time with Finn.

Just Finn. 

So, of course, that isn’t what happens at all. Poe’s current “conversation” partner—Tonis, maybe—hails from some Core world Poe can’t remember any better than his name because, _honestly_ , he’s been droning on for _ages_ about taxes and the new senate proceedings. Poe’s eyes wander and spies Finn across the room, looking ridiculously good in the navy suit he picked for the night. He’s equally trapped by a senator from Mon Cala but he seems to be faring better. Which is good, because he’s supposed to be negotiating the donation of a new flagship after the destruction of the last one during their flight to Crait. Poe doesn’t doubt Finn can get what they need, he can be incredibly charming when he needs to be. It doesn’t hurt that he’s ridiculously attractive by any galactic standard either, though Poe keeps that little opinion to himself.

As he catches a glimpse of Finn flashing a smile and the senator laughing in return, Poe’s stomach flips and he has to hold in a sigh. No hoping for a handsome, daring rescuer then. He sips his drink and Tonis goes on and on and on. In fact, Poe doesn’t fully tune back in to the conversation until he spots Tonis’ hand creeping a little closer. Then, he hears the first question Tonis has asked that he seems to want a response to.

“So, what do you do in your down time, General?”

“Uh—” Ok, maybe he should’ve been paying more attention. “Well, not a lot of down time right now. There’s still some First Order factions we’re trying to roust. Which is why we continue to appreciate your support.”

There, that sounded mostly general-like. Tonis smiles at him, his bright blue eyes flickering to where Poe’s hand rests on the table between them, wrapped around his drink.

“I think you would enjoy some time on Hesperidium. See the long evening starsets, relax in the terrace pools…” Tonis glances at him from under his eyelashes and Poe has sinking feeling where this is headed.

“Maybe. Might be a little much for my taste.”

This conversation is getting a little much for his taste but Tonis’ people have a lot of financial sway and Poe doesn’t want to fuck this up. Despite his non-answer, Tonis looks him up and down with appraising eyes and he obviously likes what he sees.

“Perhaps. You know, Ralltiir has a long history of supporting rebels,” Tonis says. A bold finger makes contact with Poe’s forearm and in the blink of an eye, his whole hand lands there. “Perhaps you would find something you’d enjoy there?

Poe probably could’ve brushed off the first part but the last words are so suggestive he can do little more than stare, mouth agape. Tonis flashes him what must be his winning smile and strokes his thumb up and down Poe’s arm.

“We’re more than happy to offer _any_ support you might find necessary. Or otherwise.”

Poe opens his mouth. Closes it. Clears his throat. “That’s uh—that’s very generous of you um—”

Tonis’ eyes light like he’s already made the catch and Poe is starting to inwardly panic about how he’s going to get out of this when he hears a sharp intake of breath and familiar voice say,

“Excuse me.”

Oh, thank the stars, it’s Finn. Poe’s ecstatic and has to suppress a sigh of relief; it’s surprisingly easy to do when he catches sight of the look on Finn’s face. Tonis rolls his eyes and looks up at Finn, but whatever snarky comment he has on his tongue shrivels up. Finn’s voice is all congeniality and poise but his dark eyes light dangerously where Tonis’ hand lays on Poe’s arm.

“I have an urgent communique for the general,” Finn says, teeth set in a minacious smile. “I’m afraid I’m gonna have to steal him.”

Tonis’ fingers shrinks back under the heat of Finn’s gaze. Before he can respond, Finn holds out his hand; Poe doesn’t hesitate to take it. As Finn pulls him from the crowd, Poe can feel the bewilderment left in their wake and he has to laugh, just a little. He glances back over his shoulder. Tonis is still sat by his lonesome, dumbfounded, Finn’s all but dragging him away in the direction of the bar and Poe can’t say he’s mad about it. If he didn’t know any better, it would feel like something out of a stupid holo-drama he would watch with Pava. Sure, he’s thought about it—about them—hoped that Finn would pick up all the hints he’s been putting down. But Finn’s apparently not much for picking up and Poe knows a good thing when he’s got it, so he’s been determined to keep his mouth shut and maintain the friendship they have.

That’s more important than anything else. Pining or no.

They make it to the bar in the far corner and Poe expects Finn to stop and drop his hand. They’ll have a drink and a laugh about it and Poe will only be sad later, alone in his bunk, that the dark look he saw in Finn’s eyes was just for show. Then his mouth dries up when Finn pulls him past the bar, past the gaggle of financiers and dusky red curtain, onto an empty balcony. Suddenly, the clamor of the party fades into a background of birdsong and starlight and they’re alone. The dark heat in Finn’s eyes is still there with no one but Poe to see it, he’s still clenching Poe’s hand tight even if he doesn’t mean to, and Poe’s skin tingles at the contact more than he’d like to admit.

A long moment stretches between them and Poe clears his throat unconsciously, stares but in a new kind of way. With a hiss and a flinch, Finn drops his eyes then his hand.

“Sorry,” Finn murmurs, reaching for him, aborting at the last second so his fingers only graze the spot Tonis had touched him. “Are you um, are you alright?”

Did that really just happen?

Poe doesn’t mean to stare but he does anyway and now he can’t figure out what to do with his mouth. It’s been so long since he and Finn just had a moment alone that he’s kind of forgotten how to navigate those particular waters. And right now they feel choppy as all hell.

“Yeah, why?” he chokes, clenching and unclenching his hand at his side. They’re outside, so how did the air get so tight? Fuck, he feels like some repressed settler, pining for a touch, a look, only to remember that that’s not how this is.

Finn’s voice is equally tight but he seems to have mastered himself. He takes a step back and crosses his arms. “You uh, you looked pretty uncomfortable in there.”

“I thought you were talking to the Mon Cala senator. I didn’t…know you were watching.”

Finn purses his lips. “I was. I mean—I wasn’t trying to…to watch you. I _was_ talking to the—to Senator Onol. But that Tonis guy, he just…”

Poe freezes. Finn seems to be wrestling with his words, like he can’t choose the ones that would say what he wants. One thing is clear: Finn doesn’t care for Tonis or his wandering hands.

Poe’s heart leaps.

Maybe…

“Why would you care about that guy?” he asks, carefully taking a step closer.

Oh stars, he hopes he’s right about this. Finn sighs into the small space between them, tilts his head back and grinds his jaw, but he doesn’t move away.

“I just…I just wanted to make sure you were ok with whatever it was he was doing,” Finn hedges.

A nervous energy is almost crackling under his skin and Poe leans closer.

“What, so you didn’t like it? Decided to pull me out here to be sure?” he teases. “You could’ve just asked.”

He’s fishing. Finn’s so close, tension taut between them in a way Poe hasn’t felt since—

“No, I didn’t like it, but that’s not the point.” Finn grits his teeth. “If I was wrong, you can go back in there, if you want. I’m sure he’ll be happy to—do something.”

He cuts himself off, like he can’t even entertain the idea. Poe glances at Finn’s mouth, at the hard set of his jaw, and his mouth waters. “And what if you were right, if I didn’t like it?”

Fuck it, Poe’s laying all his cards on the table. Oh, they’re dancing around it now, there’s no question about it. But the invitation is out there and Poe can’t bring himself to go any further. He wants, wants more than he can stand, but he can’t push himself any more. He just prays to the universe that Finn finally decides to pick up what he’s laying down before it falls flat. He reaches into the space between them, resting his hand loosely on Finn’s hip. Enough to invite, enough to escape.

Finn sucks in a sharp breath, his eyes electric in the dim light, words hesitant. “What if _I_ did something?”

He wets his lips and Poe can’t help but stare. “Like what?”

Finn groans, it sounds like frustration. “Dameron, you’re so gods-damn difficult—”

Poe frowns and his brain trips, trying to get something in his mouth. There’s a hot second, a brief tight instant before Finn beats him to it. He presses his lips to Poe’s, soft at first, hesitant. Then, Poe forgets himself, forgets everything about this stupid party, fists his hands tight in the lapels of Finn’s suit jacket. Finn’s instantly fire, fierce and all-consuming. Poe’s eyes slide closed as Finn’s fingers slide under his jaw and around his neck. One hand walks him back until his shoulders meet the wall and Finn’s crowding into his space, pressing into every centimeter like there’s not enough contact in the galaxy to satisfy him. Poe groans deep in his throat and gives as good as he gets until there’s no air left between them and he has to break away.

His hands are still tight in Finn’s jacket, his co-general’s knee fixed between his thighs. Finn’s eyes flutter for a moment, then he huffs a laugh, resting his forehead against Poe’s in a way that feels just as close, as intimate as a kiss.

“So I did something…” Finn’s voice sounds a little fragile and Poe’s heart swells. “Is—that ok?”

“Buddy, it’s more than ok. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting on that.”

When Finn pulls back, Poe smiles, letting his fingers trace the line of Finn’s jaw because he can _do that_ now. Finn’s eyes are wide, almost surprised, and Poe can’t wait to tease him about all this later.

“You ready to go home?”

Finn shakes his head, smiles, leans back in. “Maybe not just yet.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Poe spies a familiar, unwelcome Ralltiiri figure peeking through the balcony curtain, and he smirks.

“Jealous?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Finn kisses him again and when Poe hears an indignant snort, he can’t even be mad.


End file.
